


Dead Woman's Shoes

by schizoauthoress



Category: Austin Powers (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, but it's a surprise what with so you'll forgive me for not tagging it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 02:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11118237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schizoauthoress/pseuds/schizoauthoress
Summary: It turns out that Vanessa was a fembot. / Yes, we knew all along, sadly.  (How Basil found out *that* Vanesssa was a fembot.)[Note: from the UsingEnglish site -- "If promotion or success requires replacing somebody, then it can only be reached 'by dead men's shoes' by getting rid of them."]





	Dead Woman's Shoes

Vanessa's recovery beacon goes unanswered. She is concerned, but malfunction of the equipment is not out of the realm of possibility. The important thing is that Austin was successful in stopping his old nenemsis -- Dr. Evil's base has been destroyed, and that matters far more than her own temporary discomfort trekking through the Nevada desert toward civilization.

Her head aches. She remembers seeing Austin give chase as Dr. Evil fled mission control. The subterranean drill had been deactivated, and the Ministry of Defence agents had Dr. Evil's henchmen on the run. Vanessa cannot quite recall who attacked her, but she'd come back to consciousness with a terrible headache. She'd likely been hit over the head, and knows she was lucky to wake up before the base exploded. She'll address any other problems when she's back in the city.

****

Vanessa goes to the nearest safehouse set up by the Ministry of Defence, relieved to find it empty. 

First thing, she raids the refrigerator for bottled water, forcing herself to take it slow as she drinks. She could make herself sick if she gulps it down, after all. Next, Vanessa goes through the closets in the bedrooms to find civilian clothes in her sizes, before she showers off the dust and grit from her long trek through the desert. Then she grabs a burn phone, some cash, and a set of keys from the kitchen. 

A nondescript compact car sits in the garage. Vanessa doesn't like driving American cars, though of course she can. She drives away from the safehouse, close to an outdoor mall, before placing a call -- it isn't to anything officially associated with British Intelligence, but the message will be passed along as is proper.

"Hello, Johnnie!" Vanessa says immediately, once her call is picked up. "Mother and I are waiting for you to pick us up. You're running late. Is traffic bad?"

There's a brief silence, and the man on the other end of the call says, "Sorry. I think you have the wrong number."

Vanessa was expecting that. She replies, "My mistake!"

"That's all right. Goodbye."

The man hangs up. Vanessa lets out a breath, relieved that her coded distress call went off without a hitch. 

Then she pops the back off the cell phone, pulls out the SIM card, and bends the tiny slip of plastic in half. She'll get rid of it elsewhere. As for the phone itself, Vanessa puts it back together without the battery. She'll dumpt it at random in the parking lot.

With her most urgent concern now addressed, she's going to get herself a smoothie. Then she'll go back to the safehouse to await her recovery and debriefing.

****

Vanessa starts thinking that there was a more sinister reason her beacon was ignored, when a strapping, blond-haired, lantern-jawed lad kicks in the front door of the safehouse. When he immediately tries to tranquilize her on sight, Vanessa is certain of it.

Of course, she hadn't consciously been thinking such things in the moment -- she saw the gun in his hand and reacted, grabbing a table lamp and throwing it at him. He dodges, and shoots a tranquilizer dart at Vanessa.

Vanessa dives in front of the couch, reaches beneath it, and pulls out the handgun taped to the frame. She yells, "Who the hell are you?"

"That's my line!" the lad replies, stalking into the living room. 

'My god,' Vanessa thinks -- as she scrambles to keep the couch between them, staying crouched and out of his sight, 'I'm being burned. Did Austin not get out in time? Do they blame me?'

"Think a little vocal training, a little plastic surgery, is going to pass you off as an agent?"

"You idiot!" Vanessa yells. Her nerves are too frayed, her patience at an end. "I _am_ an agent, and if you try to drug me again, I'll shoot out your damn knee!"

The big blond is quiet. Maybe someone is listening in, giving him orders. She glances around the room and mentally tags the bay window as an escape route, just in case he presses the attack.

"So what's it going to be?" she demands.

"If you're really Agent Kensington," he says slowly, "then something bad has been allowed to happen."

Vanessa's heart sinks upon hearing that. She takes a breath, and calls out an offer: "Listen. I don't _want_ to shoot you. If you've got a set of handcuffs you can use rather than those damn tranquilizers, I'll surrender."

The big blond snorts. "You mean, you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword?"

Vanessa rolls her eyes at the reference, but his willingness to talk is good. She says, "I'm going to stand up, and put my gun on the coffee table. That all right with you?"

"Don't try anything funny," he warns her.

Vanessa wants to laugh, but suppresses it. No one who knows her well would expect Vanessa to 'try anything funny'. Maybe headquarters sent a new agent purposefully -- if they think she's been replaced or otherwise compromised, they wouldn't want to send in someone who might give her the benefit of the doubt. Someone who knows her well might feel sorry for her and bring her back in unsecured. It's against protocol, but not everyone is a stickler for protocol like she can be.

Vanessa lifts her hands, showing that her finger is off the trigger of the gun. "Okay," she says, "I'm going to stand up now."

The lad retorts, "Slowly!"

Vanessa complies, and stands up to her full height without getting darted or shot with a bullet. She takes a breath. "Now," she says calmly, "I'm going to put my gun on the table." And she nods to it.

"Once you do," the big blond replies, "you step back. Out of reach. And I'll put down my gun."

"Agreed."

Vanessa moves with care toward the table -- no sudden movements -- and sets the gun down on it. She lifts her hands into the air again, and steps back, closer to the window.

Now it's Vanessa turn to watch cautiously -- hands still raised, unarmed but no less dangerous -- as the other agent sets his tranquilizer gun on the floor.

He straightens himself, and asks, "All right?"

"Kick it down the hall," she instructs. When he does so, she nods and says, "Good lad."

That gets another snort from him, but he keeps his tone civil when he says, "So now I cuff you, hm? You'll keep still, because you want to come in as much as I want to bring you in."

Vanessa nods. He approaches cautiously, and she breathes calmly, watching as he pulls out the handcuffs. He moves around behind her, as expected, and secures her hands behind her back.

It's not the most orthodox agent recovery following a mission, but ever since Austin Powers came into Vanessa's life, her experiences have been anything but orthodox.

****

"I cannot believe this!" Vanessa seethes. "I'd ask if you checked up on who reported in from the mission, but clearly you didn't! You lot thought I was already recovered because no one noticed _that_ Vanessa Kensington was a bloody fembot!"

She is yelling by the end of her tirade, and Basil Exposition winces at her spike in volume. He folds his hands tightly together atop his desk. "Now, Agent Kensington, please realize, we had only limited information on Dr. Evil's fembots. There was no indication that they were capable of the kind of sophisticated mimicry shown by the false Vanessa."

"How did it even get past the metal detectors?" Vanessa wonders aloud.

Basil clears his throat. "It seems that fembots are equipped with a sophisticated jammer that makes metal detectors give a false negative."

"That might be of use to us, if you take the fembot apart." She observes coolly.

Basil gives her a stricken look. "We can't get her away from Austin, Agent Kensington. And that's an awfully bloodthirsty suggestion from you."

Her answering look is flat and disgusted. "Basil. It's a robot -- don't say 'her'. My suggestion isn't 'bloodthirsty' because while that thing has my face, it doesn't _have_ blood. Because, oh yes -- _it's a robot_."

"Austin believes that... it is you. He's quite devoted to... it." Basil squirms, uncomfortable with the way those sentences sound with the factual pronouns. He sighs. "Austin would probably think that you were the duplicate."

"Par for the course, for the M.O.D." Vanessa says, with a snort.

"Now, really, Vanessa! That's not fair!" Basil protests. "The fembot looks and sounds just like you. She -- it wasn't injured, so there was no reason to give a medical checkup. And, as I've said, it is equipped with features to jam our attempts to scan for weaponry."

Vanessa gets up, starting to pace the width of Basil's small office. "I'm upset. It should be obvious why, and you and the higher-ups should be jumping to fix it. But... for some reason, you don't want to." She gazes at Basil with horror in her eyes. "You _like_ that it's replaced me, don't you?"

"It's not that!" Basil snaps. "Don't be so damn melodramatic, Agent Kensington." He huffs, straightens his lapels, and continues in a more measured tone, "This... fembot. It's programmed to pursue a relationship with Austin. As a result, he's less wild. Easier for us to handle. That's what the higher-ups like. I can't very well order you to date Austin --"

"But lying to him about who... about _what_ he's dating, that's just fine?" she demands.

Basil frowns, studying her without answering for a long moment. Then he says, "You're in love with him."

Vanessa sputters, "What?"

"You're in love with Austin!" Basil exclaims, a bright smile on his face. It falls away, though, as he realizes -- then says aloud, "That's why you're so upset. Oh, dear."

"I... I don't..." Vanessa begins to deny it, but gives up in the face of Basil's sympathetic expression. She sighs. "I didn't mean to do it. I know it complicates things."

"I don't think anyone means to fall in love with the people they do, Vanessa."

She breathes in, breathes out. "Shouldn't he be able to tell that it's not me? That it's a replacement, a robot?"

Basil snorts. "Austin is a good secret agent. But you and I both know his observational skills are highly specialized. And he has no reason to believe that the 'Vanessa' he recovered from Dr. Evil's lair is anything but the real Vanessa. Keep in mind that the fembot didn't just decieve Austin -- its programming is good enough to fool all of us here at the Ministry of Defence."

Basil's phone rings. Vanessa nods toward it. "That might be important, Basil."

He probably knows she's deflecting his concern for her, but because she's also right, he does pick up the phone. 

"Exposition, here," he says crisply into the receiver. His eyes go wide, and he clears his throat. "Ahem. Madam, please... if you would let me..." After a few more false starts, Basil raises his voice and cries, "Mrs. Kensington! She's right here with me!"

Vanessa hides a laugh behind her hand. Sophisticated programming might fool the Ministry, but it couldn't fool her mother. She holds out a hand for the receiver, and Basil passes it over gratefully.

"Hello, Mummy," Vanessa greets, and is astonished when her mother immediately bursts into tears. "Mummy! Please don't cry! You know I can't understand you when you talk and cry."

"I'm sorry, darling!" Mrs. Kensington sobs. There's a soft tap as she sets the phone down briefly, and the distant 'honk' of a nose being blown. Then there's a rattle as she picks up the receiver again. "Austin showed up for tea! With some... faker! He acted like it was you, and he didn't understand when I tried to tell him that she wasn't!"

"He thinks it is me," Vanessa explains. "Basil says it took my place when we were stopping Dr. Evil this time.

"We have to tell him the truth!"

"I'd love to tell Austin the truth..." Vanessa replies. Basil starts waving his hands and shaking his head sharply. Vanessa sighs, and finishes, "... but the M.O.D. doesn't want us to. I'm sorry, Mummy."

Mrs. Kensington's next words are spoke in a steely voice, all trace of tears gone. "Vanessa, my dear, please put Basil back on the line. I need to have words with him."

Basil accepts the receiver with a resignation which would better fit someone facing a firing squad. To Vanessa, he says, "I'll see you in Conference Room Echo once... I'm through here." Then he takes a breath, puts the phone to his ear, and says brightly, "Now, Mrs. Kensington --"

Vanessa hurries out the door without hearing any more.

****

"Your qualifications are excellent, and your record exemplary. You would be a fine addition to any of our teams."

"You'll notice I have recent field experience. I'd like to continue that, if possible."

The old man seated across the desk closes her file and taps its bottom edge on the polished wood. "Exposition wouldn't go into detail about why you were being transferred to us. Was that professional discretion, or personal?"

"A little of both," she replies. Her altered voice still sounds strange to her ears, but she doesn't let her expression show it. She is cool and calm and collected. She doesn't care that she's been forced to leave her old life behind because of national security matters. She does not.

"Well, we're not quite your 'MOD squad'," he pauses after the joke, and she giggles -- more out of politeness than amusement, but he seems gratified. He grins, "but we're no slouches either."

"I'm glad to be here. I fear that my particular talents wouldn't be as useful outside the intelligence community."

He stands, and offers a hand. She does the same, shaking his hand firmly.

"Then let me be the first to officially welcome you to CONTROL... Agent 99."

Agent 99, once Vanessa Kensington, smiles and says crisply, "Thank you, Chief."

**Author's Note:**

> End Note: Agent 99 is 'older than she looks' in the 2008 movie (supposed to be close to Agent 86's age), and states, "I used to look like my mom." Elizabeth Hurley is only 3 years younger than Steve Carell, so even the real-life ages check out. :3
> 
> Younger-me was so disappointed in 1999 when “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me” retconned who Vanessa was. I’ve always wanted to put forth my idea that Vanessa had been replaced (and, to be clear, when Alotta Fagina reappears holding Vanessa hostage, for this story, that was actually the fembot).


End file.
